Final Mission of WO1 Philippe L. “Frenchy” Las Hermes
On January 31, 1970, a UH-1H Huey hovered over a jungle ridgeline outside Camp Evans, South Vietnam. The aircraft, tail number 68-15563, belonged to C Company, 158th Assault Helicopter Battalion. Its aircraft commander, Warrant Officer 1 Philippe L. Las Hermes — known to friends as “Frenchy” — was conducting a mission that demanded the highest levels of skill and composure: holding a steady hover while combat engineers rappelled down to cut landing zones in enemy-held terrain.
Missions like this were among the most perilous of Vietnam’s air war. A helicopter restricted to a hover is a large, slow target. Enemy fighters could focus anti-aircraft weapons, including rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), on a single aircraft. Pilots and crews accepted that risk to provide mobility, fire support, and extraction for ground forces that had nowhere else to turn.
The attack and crash
While engineers descended from Las Hermes’ Huey and worked to clear a landing zone, an RPG struck the aircraft. The weapon’s hit ignited fuel and damaged flight systems, but the response of the flight crew was immediate and disciplined. Aircraft commander WO1 Philippe L. Las Hermes and pilot Captain Donald Swanson forced the severely damaged helicopter out of the hover and attempted to fly clear of the area.
Flames poured from the fuselage as the Huey staggered forward. For a few terrifying moments the crew kept the aircraft aloft, clearing the landing zone and trying to maintain lift. After only a short distance the helicopter lost lift and fluttered down into the jungle foothills.
Survivors and the fallen
The crash left four men dead either in the impact or from wounds suffered in the immediate aftermath:
- WO1 Philippe L. Las Hermes, Aircraft Commander
- CPT Donald Swanson, Pilot
- SP4 Mahlon R. Arnett, Gunner
- PFC Paul H. Cardenas Jr., Passenger
Crew chief Mike Amos made a split-second decision and jumped from the tumbling aircraft at treetop height. That leap cost him injuries, but it saved his life. He was recovered the following day. Las Hermes, initially pulled from the wreckage alive but with catastrophic burns, later died of his injuries on February 14, 1970, either aboard a hospital ship or subsequently in Japan, according to differing accounts.
Duty, courage, and the price of service
The details of this mission highlight the realities of helicopter warfare in Vietnam: pilots and crews often had to sacrifice their own safety to enable engineers and infantry to gain footholds in hostile territory. Holding a hover under fire — maintaining position so others could descend, clear, or evacuate — required steady hands, precise control, and absolute trust among crew members.
“He was doing what Army aviators were trained to do — holding steady under fire so others could complete the mission.”
That statement, applied to Las Hermes and his crew, captures both the tactical necessity and the human cost of such missions. Their actions made possible operations that saved other lives or gained critical terrain, even while exposing aircrews to lethal danger.
A life threaded through history
There is a poignant irony in Las Hermes’ story. Nicknamed “Frenchy,” he once joked about receiving a draft notice from the French Army, laughing that they could not possibly send him to Vietnam. The irony deepens when one learns that his father had fought at Dien Bien Phu with the French Foreign Legion. History, in that sense, closed a circle — a son perishing in the same country where his father had once fought decades earlier.
Remembering names and mission
Names matter. They anchor personal sacrifice in a collective memory. WO1 Philippe L. Las Hermes, CPT Donald Swanson, SP4 Mahlon R. Arnett, and PFC Paul H. Cardenas Jr. each represent a life cut short. Mike Amos’ survival is a reminder of the narrow margins between life and death in combat.
As veterans, families, and historians revisit these incidents, the focus is often on lessons learned: tactics, aircraft vulnerability, and the risks of specific mission profiles. But the human element remains central. Courage was not abstract on that January day; it was a series of practiced responses, decisions made in seconds, and commitment to fellow soldiers.
Legacy
WO1 Philippe L. “Frenchy” Las Hermes died performing the role he was trained for: to hold steady under fire so others could complete the mission. That commitment, and the price paid by him and the men who flew and died with him, is part of the unspoken cost of Vietnam’s air war. Remembering their names and their mission keeps that history present and honors the sacrifices they made.
We remember their names. We remember their mission. We remember their sacrifice.
